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As a child, it was one of my greatest delights to visit my grandparents in the spring when the whip-poor-wills began to call. Grandma and Grandpa lived in a remote valley of the Ozark Mountains where there were trees a plenty, and, seemingly, a whip-poor-will, or two, in each one.
My grandmother insisted that a whip-poor-will's call was not "whip-poor-will," but instead, "chip-butter-white-oak." I would listen really hard trying to hear it exactly as she said it was, but all I could hear was "whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,..." But, I never let on to her.
I remember my grandpa watching and listening, with an amused look on his face, to one of these listening sessions. Shortly after that he began to call me, just for fun, "Chip Butter." It is a name I am proud to wear for I still love to hear that long, lonesome call on a warm summer's eve. And, sometimes, when I listen really, really hard, it seems I can hear quite clearly, "chip-butter-white-oak, chip-butter-white-oak..."


Saturday, September 28, 2013


The day was beautiful and the creek was just as lovely as I remembered it from times past.


                                             
Looking up the creek from thence it came.


                                                   

   And down the creek to wheresoever it is going.
                                                                        



                                                                         
Here we chose a spot for our hot dog feast.  While Dan built a fire, I gathered leaves along the water's edge to take home for an eco colour dyeing project.  I am sure India Flint would approve.






6 comments:

  1. Nothin better than hotdogs on an open fire, unless there are marshmallows too! I have been catching up on all the posts I've missed. Lovely photos, your creek looks so similar to the Swan below our house. Your succulents look so................succulent and healthy. I have been busy clearing out some of my mothers things. Big job. Hopefully, I can get back to some dolls this winter.

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    1. Sherri, Dan and I will hardly eat a hot dog unless it is grilled or cooked on an open fire. I suppose you enjoy a few yourself right on Swan Creek. You do have a big job to do; plays on the heart, for sure. Cleaning out Mother's things was so hard.

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  2. What fun!! Beautiful place for a cook out!

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    1. Charlotte, there's always room for a couple more chairs around the fire!

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  3. Replies
    1. Ernestine, hot dogs over an open fire are the best. If I were a little closer I would drop by your woods and we would make good use of your fire pit!

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